


the substance of things hoped for

by helsinkibaby



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, F/M, Het, Romance, post ep, spoilers for 16x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Post “Mona Lisa” , Nick and Ellie clear the air.





	the substance of things hoped for

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure of the pacing on this one but it’s not going to get any better. Nick has no patience.

There have been so many times that Ellie has arrived at Nick’s apartment after work, sometimes with takeout, sometimes with beer, sometimes with one arm as long as the other. So many times that he’s let her in and they’ve ended up curled comfortably on his couch, channel surfing and laughing until it gets too late and the ever sensible Ellie announces she should get going. 

How many times has Nick thought about telling her she should stay? That she’ll have the bed, he’ll sack out on the couch and set the alarm early for the morning? That they can share the bed in a perfectly platonic manner? 

Too many. 

For that matter, how many times has he idly wondered about what might happen if he pushed the boundaries just a little more? If he took her hand in his, if he held her just a little longer as she hugged him goodbye? If he pulled her closer when they were sitting on the couch, did the old stretch and yawn trick that had been old hat even when he was a teenager? 

Also too many. 

And there have been way too many times when he’s imagined Ellie calling to his door for completely different reasons than just to hang out. He won’t use the term booty call - Ellie is so not that kind of girl - but he’s dreamed about what it would be like to open the door to her, to pull her close and push her back against the closing door, to have her fingers move through his hair and her legs bracket his hips as he does what he’s wanted to do for so long. 

Tonight though?

Tonight is none of those. 

Because tonight when he opens his door to Ellie, he genuinely doesn’t want to let her in. “What are you doing here?” he asks, bracing both arms on the doorframe, effectively blocking her entry. 

Of course, that doesn’t work on Eleanor Raye Bishop. Not only because she’s one of the most stubborn people he’s ever met in his life but because she’s ninja enough that she actually darts under one arm and slips past his defences entirely. 

Which really, she’s been doing since the day he met her, so he shouldn’t be surprised. 

“We have to talk, Nick,” she says, standing right in the middle of his living room, arms crossed over her chest, jaw set. “We can’t keep going on like this; you’ve hardly spoken to me all week...”

He doesn’t bother denying it. He’s denied his feelings enough around her for most of the last year. “You thought I was capable of murder,” he reminds her. “That’s pretty hard to get over.”

She presses her lips together. “We were following the evidence,” she tells him. “I was doing-”

“Doing your job? Following orders? Where have I heard that excuse before?” It’s a low blow and he knows it, feels momentarily guilty when she looks stunned, like he’s slapped her. “And don’t tell me that I would have done the same. You know I wouldn’t have.” 

Her breath leaves her in a rush. “I know,” she says and he blinks. That was an admission he hadn’t expected. “I’m not like you, Nick... I don’t go with my gut. I analyse, I look at patterns and statistics and probability...”

She doesn’t need to tell him that all the above made him look guilty as sin. She already has anyway. “And you let that override three years of working together. Of friendship.” She looks down, biting her lip and he sighs, runs a hand over his face, admits something to her that he wouldn’t admit to many people. “I’ve killed people, Ellie, I can’t deny that.” He keeps his voice low, doesn’t take his eyes off her. “For God and country and NCIS.” He thinks of all the close calls they’ve had over the years, all the times that she’d come close to harm, or worse. He could very easily have sent any of the people responsible for those close calls to hell and slept like a baby that night. “But I’ve never murdered anyone. And for you to think that I would be capable of that...”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that!” The words are laced with frustration and not a little pain. It almost makes Nick feel sorry for her. Except for the part where she called him a murderer, of course. “The Nick I know, my team mate, my friend? Of course you’re not capable of murder. But you were drugged, Nick. We didn’t know how that could have affected you, we didn’t know if you were acting like my Nick any more, we didn’t know...” 

She stops talking abruptly and he can see clearly the second it hits her what she’s said. 

“My Nick.”

The words echo in his head, rattle around in his brain and for a moment he feels just as disoriented as he had waking up that morning on the boat. 

Then Ellie shakes her head, presses her lips together. “I should go,” she says, moving quickly, brushing by him on her way. He half turns, watching her go, and she’s at the door, her hand on the handle before he speaks. 

“I am, you know.” 

There’s a long moment of silence where he can see her hand tighten on the handle but she doesn’t turn around. “Are what?” Her voice is shaking. 

“Yours.” 

He doesn’t remember moving but suddenly he’s standing beside her. His hand goes to her shoulder, gently turns her to face him and he encounters less resistance than he thought he might. What the hell, he decides. He’s always known that if anything was going to happen between them, he’d have to speak first. Might as well be now. 

“I’ve been yours since Charlie kissed Luis in a sketchy dive shop. Since before that. Every case, every late night beer, every random girl who didn’t mean anything to me... I’ve been yours, Ellie.” He lifts one hand slowly, lays it on her cheek. His thumb sweeps up and down, moving across her cheekbone. Her eyes flutter shut, her lips parting slightly and he decides to take that as a good sign. “I’m beginning to think I always will be.” 

Ellie sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, but she doesn’t speak. Her eyes, when she looks into his, are dark and troubled. 

Scared, he recognises. 

“I know you’re scared,” he tells her, half expecting her to deny it. 

She shakes her head but what she says isn’t a denial. “I can’t lose another person who means something to me, Nick,” she says. “If we didn’t work out...” 

His hand moves down, so that his thumb can move across her lips. “I get that,” he whispers. “But Ellie... all I’m asking for is a little faith.” 

He sees something flicker in her eyes, maybe a memory of the last time he’d said something like that to her, standing in the middle of the squad room, close enough to touch but further apart than they’d ever been. Then something else flickers in her eyes, this time a decision. He sees her make it, feels it too in the way that her shoulders relax, tension leaving her body in a sudden rush that leaves her swaying towards him. 

Closing the gap between them, brushing his lips over hers, is the easiest thing he’s ever done. 

The way she sighs into the kiss, practically whimpers as her hands land on his chest, is the best sound he’s ever heard. 

And when she whispers his name as he moves inside her, it’s better than he could have ever hoped.


End file.
